


weight-ing

by thilesluna



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Temporary Character Death, barry being my favorite boy and also making me feel emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 04:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12473752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thilesluna/pseuds/thilesluna
Summary: Even when she was gone, Lup was there.





	weight-ing

He almost loses it more than once. Barry is strong and he works hard but he really does, he almost loses it and in doing so, nearly loses _everything_. He fights for ten long years, against himself, against this world, against someone he thought was his _friend_ and it’s still almost not enough.

 

His only consolation is the weight that sits heavy in his chest, pressing like a physical thing on his lungs in a way that sometimes steals his breath. He feels it as a lich more, but every time his rebuilds his body and goes back into it, he feels it then too. He leaves that bit in on the coin every time. _The weight of a love that defined and redeemed you_. It redeemed him during those hundred years and it does the same now. Keeps him up and moving as a human and keeps his power restrained as a lich.

 

But still, there are times.

 

He falls from the Starblaster and when his form rises from his body he wants to tear the world _apart_. He reels from the loss of Lup, the loss of his home, his _family_. He felt himself forgetting for just a moment on the ship and the idea that he would—that he _could_ forget his crew nearly sends him over the edge.

 

And then, he feels it.

 

Barry takes what passes as a breath when you’re dead and he feels it spread as he pulls back the arcs of red lightning that had begun to fly. It takes him over, settling and surrounding like the warmth of the blankets his mother would hang by the fire on cold, winter mornings. He hears Lup telling him to hold it together. He hears Magnus and Merle urging him to keep fighting. He thinks of the way Davenport smiles, more reassuring than nearly anything in Barry’s life. He remembers Taako and how they’re _family_. And Lucretia with that grin that lit up every room she was in.

 

There are shouts coming from the house at the edge of this field and Barry jolts to his senses. He stares down at the remains of his body and feels a pang. There’s no knowing how long he’ll be stuck in his lich form but he’s done enough research to know that there’s got to be _some_ way to get his body back. So he gathers a small amount of blood and floats away.

 

\--------------

 

The first time he dies after putting himself back into his body is…tough. He’s been “alive” for a few months, following his own clues and orders, hearing his own voice come through the coin. He loses his footing on the craggy rocks of a mountain—looking for Lup, imagining where she might be, _preying_ she was still alive even if it meant she couldn’t remember him—and plummets into the gorge filled with sharp rocks. He rises once more from his body and a nearby boulder _explodes_ as red lightning catches it as it flies off his lich form.

 

He’s so close to falling apart.

 

It’s Lup who saves him this time. This time he stops, spectral hands held tightly against his head and he _remembers_.

 

_Long fingers winding through his hair. Soft laughter, quiet little puffs of air brushing against his cheek. The warmth of her next to him. The songs she would hum quietly when she was sure he was sleeping._

He pulls and pulls, bringing him back from that edge and back into himself. It takes a moment but he does it and he can feel it in his chest again, grounding him to the here and now, reminding him that he has a job to do.

 

He stoops to collect some of his blood and makes his way back home.

 

\-----

 

It’s different in his human body, but still present. Barry doesn’t know how to quantify the feeling beyond what the coin tells him, but he really does feel it. There’s something missing that makes him ache and the pressing on his ribs reminds him that this is _real_ , it’s all real.

 

\-----

The next time, it’s easier. It’s been three years since his trip over the side of the Starblaster and he’s been in this body for almost 6 months when it happens. He follows a lead a bit to far and ends up on the wrong side of a wizard’s duel. The coin tells him that he’s magical and Barry can sometimes feel that current drift through him but it’s like a familiar itch he can’t seem to scratch.

 

He’s always been shit at dueling anyway.

 

(Lup was the better duelist and she taught him some tricks, none of which he remembers in his alive body of course.)

 

He rises from his body to the shock of his opponent and raises a single, crackling hand.

 

Barry thinks that maybe this time the death was easier because there was someone there to rage against.

 

\--------

 

You would think, with the 99 years of dying and death that it _would be_ easy, but it’s not. In fact, every time a body is destroyed, Barry finds it harder and harder to hold on.

 

The cycle is endless and excruciating.

 

Live, hunt, die, rage, research, grow, live, hunt, die—he feels like a hamster on a wheel, chasing something he can’t catch, trying to survive alone after so many years with his family.

 

That’s all it is, really. Survival in the simplest sense. He has a job and he’s working toward a goal, but every time he comes back, every time he settles back into his body and forgets, he’s not even really living. He’s just—barely surviving.

 

He dies following a lead to Lup’s whereabouts. He dies when he can’t help but step in and defend a traveling family from a gang of goblins. He dies because _forgets_ how to swim—he lost so much when he lost the years of their century.

 

In Phandalin, he really does almost go nuclear. He was so _close_. So close to ending all of this. He rises from the black glass and falls to his knees, screaming loud enough that, if there were anyone left alive in the city, they all would hear. But there isn’t.

 

All there is is just a perfect circle of black glass and Barry all alone again.

 

\-----------

 

The only thing that saves him—besides the _weight_ —is that he really is close. He’s been reading the signs and is probably the person who knows the most about the Hunger in this whole plane—save Lucretia—and it’s _coming_. Barry ticks off the check marks as the year passes and he plays the part of the Red Robe to a T. He’s vague and threatening and he honestly hates it, but it’s the only way he can think to communicate with his friends with the Voidfish’s grip still holding them tight.

 

He watches his body grow slowly, watches the pieces knit together with the same sick sense of fascination he has had since the beginning. There’s nothing more for him to do but bide his time until the next opportunistic occasion presents itself.

 

He feels regret for what he did to the boys’ roommate, but sometimes sacrifices must be made—and he knows that Lucretia would never go as far as killing the man—and he’s paying for it with unexplainable cravings for _Pringles_ of all things.

 

It’s working, in a way. His plans are coming closer and closer to fruition and it’s _working_ and then.

 

The umbrella.

 

He’s in the floating lab and he’s doing his level best to give the boys something that they can no only work with, but actually understand as well. It’s… _difficult_ to say the least. It takes a second to click with him, honestly. One minute he’s giving dramatically vague clues and the next he feels like he’s being ripped apart.

 

 _Her_ umbrella.

 

Barry doesn’t register what he says, only feels the tearing and burning, hears the shocked noises from his friends and then he’s _gone_. The red fire licks at his hands, his face, shrouds him completely and it _hurts_ to burn up like this. It’s so much and for a moment, the weight has disappeared and Barry feels his power consuming his mind, feeding on what’s left of Barry J. Bluejeans after losing everything, wanting to take whatever he had left.

 

And then.

 

He collapses on the floor of his cave. The sickly green glow of the reanimation pod casts light over the darkened room and Barry feels _pinned_ to the dirt like there’s a goddamn boulder on his chest.

 

“ _Don’t lose it now, Bluejeans_ ,” _she’d said as they rose from the ashes, the rest of the crew decimated by the blast of the volcano. “Keep it together, Barry. I need you to keep it together.”_

_It was the first time he’d lost so many at once. Magnus, Merle, Taako, Dav, and Lucretia, gone, covered in ash and fire. He can feel the energy crackling around him and he can’t look at her. “Lup, I—“_

_She tackles him then, which isn’t something he even knew could happen. She tackles him and crushes her weight against him. “I’m right here, Barry.” He takes a shuddering breath. And another. “I’m always gonna be right here,” she says, pressing a little more and making him_ feel _her. He breathes._

 

In the cave, he breathes too. The weight isn’t the same but it’s _there_.

 

Barry pulls himself to his feet. There’s so much more work to be done.

 

\--------------

 

It takes far too long for him to break. There’s the getting his memories back, the finding of his friends, the reuniting with the love of his life, and the stopping of the end of the world. All in all, Barry has been pretty busy.

 

Lup has had her body back for 3 weeks when it finally happens. She steps into their room, shedding her red robe and hanging it on the hook by the door. It’s something he’s seen her do a thousand times before and suddenly, something inside him is punctured, the weight, ever present, deflating and lifting from his ribs. His breath leaves him in a rush when he crosses the room to her and his chest _aches_ as he falls to his knees. Lup is startled, reaching for him without hesitation.

 

“Barry?”

 

It’s too much and he’s never been good at words. “I—I’m sorry,” he says, reaching trembling hands for her hips. He’s held her, touched her, _kissed_ her but the feeling of his fingers on her solidly is still something he thinks he will _never_ take for granted again. “I waited too long to thank you. Lup, I should have fucking thanked you the moment I saw you again.”

 

Lup slides her fingers beneath his chin to tilt his head back. Her other hand wipes at his cheek because _of course_ he’s crying. “Barry, I don’t understand,” she says. “I mean I know I’m great and all but I was in a damn umbrella for a decade. What the _hell_ are you thanking me for?”

 

“I was alone,” Barry says, still trying to piece together what he wants to say. “I was alone for a very long time and I—I didn’t know if you were—I didn’t know if _anyone_ was still out there.” He squeezes at her hip and stares up at the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. “When I was a lich, I could remember. I could think about my friends and about you and all the things we’d done but you were all gone. It was _hard_ , Lup. I was _breaking_.”

 

“Barry—“ she says, swiping her thumb on his cheek again.

 

He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of her hand. “And when I was alive, when I had a body, I _forgot_. I forgot you, Lup. I made a promise to myself that day at the Observatory that I would do everything to be with you, no matter what, and I couldn’t keep it. I lost you and I _forgot_ you.”

 

Lup makes a wounded sound and sinks to her knees. “Barry that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t—“

 

“You still saved me,” he says, cutting her off. “You saved me even when I forgot who you were.”

 

“What?”

 

“Every time I came back to my body and I couldn’t remember, you saved me.” Barry says. “I told myself, _the weight of a love that defined and redeemed you_ and I wasn’t being poetic.” He takes one of her hands and brings it to his chest. “I meant it. I meant that every time I came back to life and every time I died again and went lich, I could _feel_ you right here.” Barry covers her hand with his own and presses.

 

“It didn’t matter if I was alive or dead. All those times I died, I thought I was so close to being gone forever but I didn’t and that was because of _you_.” He brings his other hand to her cheek, cupping the swell of it in the palm of his hand and reveling in the feeling of her being so _alive_. He can’t help but kiss her then, pressing softly forward, her hand still pinned to his chest. He wonders idly if she can feel the way his heart still races, just like it did the first time, just like it has every time.

 

They part and Barry pushes his forehead against hers, eyes still shut. “I should have done it months ago. I should have done it right away and I didn’t.” He feels her hand shift and she laces their fingers together. He smiles and breathes in the feeling of being _here_. “I love you so much and I want to thank you,” he says. “I want to thank you for loving me enough to save me, even when you weren’t there.”

**Author's Note:**

> i. love. barry. j. bluejeans.


End file.
